Live for today, Survive for Tomorrow
by Dr-Lovekill
Summary: Surviving nuclear war is easy compared to adapting to a new, strange world. They call it "The Great Mushroom War", but I call it the moment when everything changed. Do I belong here, or am I just a relic of a forgotten time and place? Rated for language and content. Contains OC/Marceline, and references to war and death. My first fic in a long while, so please review.
1. Chapter 1: Call Me Ishmael

Chapter 1: Call Me Ishmael

_**Message found in the strange subterranean house in the forest. Removed and preserved by Royal Archaeologists. Penned by unknown individual, and possibly alluding to the early days of the mushroom war. Awaiting detailed study by historians.**_

I knew it would happen. The inevitability of the whole thing, and yet…apparently the rest of the world couldn't see it. Either that, or they didn't care. Isn't it human nature after all? Serve yourself, to hell with everyone else? Even if your actions will eventually hurt you too? I mean, with all the saber rattling between nations, Iran threatening to blow up the Strait of Hormuz, drought in the Midwest…and damn it all, instead of trying to solve the problems, all of our politicians just sat and argued about such inconsequential ideologies. And the American people ignored the devil at the door, and split themselves between the idiots throwing crap in the bathroom.

Civil war. That's the only way to describe it. When food became scarce, and both sides blamed each other, I guess we had nowhere else to go but war. It was awful. Stupid. Bloody. Street-to-street fratricide as neighbors turned on one another for food, water and gas. And when our enemies saw us split, it was the perfect opportunity for them. The Chinese, the Russians, the rogue nations in the Mideast and Asia. Everyone wanted a piece. Even then, we couldn't stop fighting each other long enough to save ourselves. And so the war spread beyond borders. It became a _world_ war. Old enemies deciding to get even for long-forgotten grievances. Even then, no one saw it coming. Except maybe me and a few others.

No one knows who launched first. Does it even matter anymore if it was the Ruskies or the Pakistanis? If it was us, or some self-made religious zealot with a dirty bomb? Is there anyone left to blame for the whole fracas that killed us all? No. Hell I was sitting in a steel-reinforced concrete bunker, a hobbit hole in the middle of nowhere as the bombs started falling. I couldn't have known who launched first, nor do I even care anymore. I saw it all coming, a modern day Noah doomed to save only myself. That's all I could do. Make my own power, horde my own food, and stockpile enough hardware to take out a small country to protect it all. Serve myself and to hell with everyone else. Ironic huh?

I was prepared to live as long as I needed to after the world destroyed itself. I knew all about survival, disease, I knew all about nuclear weapons and the effects of radiation, or at least I thought I did. There had never been a full scale nuclear war to see what would happen. No multiple, close-proximity explosions of the new Castle Bravo 20,000 kiloton bombs had ever happened, and there was no way anyone could have guessed at the strange aftereffects of such a reaction. That it would not only cause weird mutations, but could even rend the fabric of reality as well. That's just the stuff of sci-fi movies, right?

So I sat there, in my bunker, not even knowing if there was a world left outside anymore. 8 months, according to my calendar, according to my analog watch, and yet I couldn't have known how much time was passing outside. I don't even know today how It happened, or when exactly it happened, or what series of events led up to the story I'm about to tell. As I said, I was hiding, afraid to open the steel door of my shelter. All I know, and all I'll ever know is that when I finally emerged from my self-imposed tomb, everything had changed.

I'm finished now, talking about things I don't know about. I'm not going to waste anymore time trying to figure out how I got here, or what happened to the world I knew. The door is open. There is sunlight, grass, trees. Maybe someone lives in this strange new world. Maybe someone or something can give me answers.


	2. Chapter 2: Oh Brave New World

_I'm finally back with a new chapter. The story will finally start to make sense now, as I introduce The Survivalist, the main character of this fic. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, and please send me reviews. I'd love to get some comments or constructive criticism on this story. I haven't written in so long, that I'm afraid I've become a bit rusty. Well, on to the story. I don't own Adventure Time. I just own my bizarre imagination._

**Chapter 2: Oh Brave New World...**

I sat in my folding chair, looking for some time out into the bright landscape outside my door. The trees looked different than those I knew. The grass itself looked different. Could it be residual effects of radiation? Just to make sure, I popped a new set of batteries into my Geiger counter, and switched on the device. The slow, gradual ticking meant radiation levels were almost as low as they were when I went into the shelter. That couldn't be. The whole world should still be clicking hot. As much as I fought with the idea, I realized that I could no longer deny the truth…I was in a different time or place. Somehow, the nuclear war that had vaporized so many millions and slowly killed millions more, had plucked me up like the hand of God, and dropped me somewhere else.

"Damn it…" I muttered. I jumped at the sound of my own voice, and realized that in my seclusion, I hadn't spoken a word in months. I sighed. There was no sense in sitting in this hole and wondering. What's the worst that could happen, I die? To survive the end of the world, only to die minutes after leaving my bunker…that would be an irony not even _my_ life could be capable of. Still, not knowing what to expect, I took a canteen of water, a bowie knife, and a holster, and belted them around my waist, snapping the thigh strap of the holster around my leg. I took a Beretta 92 9mm pistol from the wall of my bunker, and holstered it, making sure to select an extra magazine of hollowpoints and slid it into the magazine pocket of the holster. If there were raiders, zombies, or mutant, radioactive grizzly bears out there, I wanted to be ready. I took one last look around the small concrete cell that had been my home for 8 months, then taking a Mossberg 500 12 gauge and a handful of shells as an afterthought, I left the relative safety of the shelter and stepped out into the unknown.

The trees themselves looked unnatural. Different in a way that I can't describe. I felt their bark. It was bark as I knew it, from trees as I'd known them, but somehow, it wasn't. I was trying to mentally digest this as I walked, when I tripped over something and stumbled. I looked back to see what had caused my near fall. A piece of white metal jutted up from the earth. I crouched down, and dug away dirt from around the object. Whatever it was, it was fairly large. As I uncovered it, it began to take shape, and I recognized what it was. A car door. The rusted auto part with white paint flaking from it made me realize the destruction I had lived through, and how much time must have really past in the outside world. I stood and let the car door fall back to the ground with a dull thud. I continued my walk.

Coming across what appeared to be a blackberry bush, I paused. The berries looked ripe and delicious, just like blackberries that I used to pick every summer. Just to be sure, I picked one, and looked closely, as if its glossy black color alone would give some indication of its toxicity. I cautiously took a bite. It tasted like the blackberries I remembered, juicy and sweet. My mouth didn't tingle, and I didn't fall dead. Finally, something normal. Or so I thought. I reached into the bush, plucking more and more of the fresh berries. When I pulled my hand out, there was a large, fat, green worm on my wrist. I moved it slowly to eye level. I had never seen a worm like this one before, yet it looked like a stereotypical child's drawing of a big green inchworm. The worm inched its way in a comical way up my arm. At least there were living things in this world.

"And just what are you?" I sighed. To my surprise, the worm stopped in its tracks as if it understood me. Then it turned its head.

"Um…Frank." It replied.

"GAHHH!" I exclaimed, shaking the worm off, and jumping back, away from the Frank Worm. Was I hallucinating? Was I going insane? Had a worm just spoke to me?

"Watch it, buddy." The worm said angrily, slinking off into the bush. I didn't know what to do. I just turned and ran into the forest, trying to figure out when exactly I had lost my mind. I came finally to a clearing in the woods, and looked out over a vast plain, with bluish-purple mountains in the distance. There was no sign of civilization anywhere I could see, only the sea of grass, dotted periodically with a strange tree. I had finally had enough of this madhouse. I threw my shotgun down and raised my arms to the clouds above.

"What the Hell is going on here?" I shouted at the sky. "What is this place? Where the Hell am I?" I jumped as I heard a noise behind me. Someone was coming, and in my rage, I had let my guard down. I turned, and gripped my pistol, unsnapping the holster. A strange man, if you want to call him a man, was riding slowly and fearlessly toward me at a trot, on a horse stranger than even he was.

He had yellow skin, and a long, pointed nose, and I tried not to stare for fear of offending the first person I had seen. It was hard not to stare at his horse, which looked more like a droop-eyed camel made out of a lemon.

"Youuuuu…" The strange figure said in a scratchy voice. "…are in my earldom, stranger!"

"Earldom?" I repeated. I'd always believed that if society were destroyed, man would naturally revert back to a feudal government. It made perfect sense to me, and this man must be some chieftain.

"Yes!" He answered, reigning in his mount. "I am Lemongrab! Yes, the Earl of Lemongrab! Have you not heard of me, traveller?"

"Um…I'm afraid I haven't, sir." I said, trying to show respect to this being, who may have been a powerful lord I may not want to have angry with me. "I am new to this land, your…Earlship. In fact, I did not even know where exactly I was until you told me."

"Uhhh-huhhh…I see." He mused, rubbing his nonexistent chin. His head was without ears or a discernable jaw line, and like his beast, looked more like a lemon than anything else. I thought about his name. The Earl of Lemongrab. Perhaps everyone here had mutated into lemon-looking people like the Earl. Lemongrab…for some reason, it reminded me of Leningrad. Play on words, perhaps. Best not to overthink it.

"Would your lordship please give me direction to the nearest town?" I asked, trying to show that I meant nothing but the utmost respect.

"Perhaps you should come to my castle at Lemongrab…" The Earl answered. "I need more loyal subjects at my castle!"

I was beginning to realize something about the Earl. Just from the scratchy, angry voice, and the way everything he said sounded like an order, I could tell he was no gentle ruler, and the idea of getting in with some tyrant did not really appeal to me.

"Thank you for your offer sir," I replied, "but I just need to know more about where I am, and where I may find a place to rest tonight."

"You can rest at my castle. And tomorrow, you will swear your allegiance to me!"

"I must decline your offer." I said firmly. "I'm trying to figure out where I am, and I don't think I'm going to find answers to my questions as your subject." He narrowed his eyes at me.

"Uuuuuunacepaaaaaaable!" Lemongrab screamed. "You are in my land, and I will not stand for your insolence! Now to my castle, strange traveller! Now!" At this point, I wasn't even afraid of this Lemongrab guy. He had no soldiers with him, and only carried a sword. And I was actually beginning to doubt his title, as well as his sanity.

"No." I replied coldly. At this, Lemongrab's eyes widened.

"Whaaaaaaaaaaa?" He shrieked in rage. "Dungeon! You go to the dungeon!"

"Duke…or whoever you are," I said, picking up my shotgun. "I'm going to walk away now. I'm not going to any dungeon, and I'm not going to be your cabana boy or whatever. If you ask me, your lordship has a few screws loose, and I don't think I ended up in this nuthouse of a place to serve a screaming nutjob like you." He just sat and started at me, like he couldn't believe I had spoken to him like I did. "Hm." I grunted, and walked back into the forest.

"Well…" He hollered at me as I walked away. "You…are…banished! Forever!" I groaned. The first person I meet in this screwed up world, and he's a squeaky Hitler-wannabe.

I walked for what had to have been several miles. It was growing dark, and I hadn't run across another person at all. I realized I was far from my bunker, and night was coming fast, so I finally decided to build a small shelter for the night and bed down. I proceeded to gather sticks and boughs from the woods around me, arranging them into a cozy little hut, making a soft bedding out of leaves and moss. I crawled inside, bringing my weapon in with me, and lay back on the soft leaves, listen to them crackling underneath me. Tomorrow was another day, and I hoped as I stared up at the branches above me, that this strange new world had something more to offer than what I had already seen. I thought about the world I had left behind when I locked myself I my bunker. I thought about McDonalds, my neighbors, jet planes and great cities. I thought about watching The Walking Dead, and drinking Red Bull. Was it all really gone? How far had I come in time, if that's what had really happened? These thoughts clouded my mind until my eyelids got heavy, and I felt sleep taking over. Maybe I'd wake up from this strange dream…


	3. Chapter 3: Trees, Trees and Tree Trunks

_Yet another character is met in this chapter. How will the Survivalist deal with more of the denizens of the Land of Ooo? Will he come to terms with the new world he's found himself in, or lose his mind? And when will he meet Finn and Jake? Will I stop rambling on and get to the bloody action? Read on to find out. I own nothing of this but my OC…who is really me. Reviews please. _

I awoke to the sun rising the next morning. I sat up and looked around. I was still inside my small tent made of branches and pine boughs. I yawned, and tried to remember if I had dreamed everything. It all came back to me. The nuclear war, talking worms, that weird Count Lemon guy. Was it all a dream, some insane creation of my mind? _'Is all that we see or seem, but a dream within a dream?' _

I crawled out of the small shelter and stood, stretching my sore arms and legs. A few birds flew by, and the forest rattled quietly with a slight breeze blowing through the trees. The idyllic scenery masked the bizarre memories I had of the day before. I inhaled deeply the fresh air of the pristine nature around me. Aside from random pieces of civilization lying about in random places, this new world seemed cleaner than the one I knew. 'Life after humans…' I thought to myself. 'The Earth will heal itself.'

My stomach rumbled, and I patted my pockets. Damn, should have brought food. I broke a major survival rule. I hadn't planned on being out this long. I unscrewed the lid of my canteen and took a long drink. Satisfying at least my thirst, I looked around, peering into the depths of the woods.

"Well," I said to myself, "where do I go from here?" I could go back to my bomb shelter, but that wouldn't solve a thing. I had to find some sort of civilized town, or at least a normal person. If such a thing existed, that is. I checked my shotgun for functionality, and drew my pistol, checking the chamber, and resetting the safety before reholstering the weapon. At this point, I hadn't seen much to make me believe there were real threats out there, but I had mentally trained myself to always be ready. _'Sic Vic Pacem, Para Bellum'_

I began my trek through the forest, keeping on the same bearing I had taken after meeting the Lemon guy. When I would come to small clearings or thin areas of trees, I could see tall, snow-capped mountains in the distance. It reminded me of the approach to the Rockies during a cross-country trip I had taken once. But these couldn't be the Rockies, could they? They were rather to the north of me, according to the sun's position in the eastern sky. That would place me…in Utah? Southwest Colorado? It didn't make any sense to me at all, given that I was in a deciduous forest, with grasslands a short distance away. I had to start finally considering that I was not only in a different time, but in a different place as well. I had to find some answers.

I altered my course, and headed north by northeast, toward the mountains. My path soon took me once again to the edge of a savannah-like area, reminiscent of the Great Plains. Now the mountains could be seen more clearly. They jutted up from the plains without foothills to precede them. As the flat land ended in the distance, some 10 miles by my reckoning, the mountains began abruptly, towering over the plain below. I could also see that where the range began, a sort of glacier had taken hold of the land. Once again, this land was odd to me. This close to a glacier, the weather should be colder, but instead, the temperature was in the 60's. The more I saw of this place, the more questions I had. My mind began to wander into the realm of metaphysics, when I heard a voice from the woods behind me.

"Why hello there." A gentle female voice said. I jumped at the sound, and looked around for the source of the grandmotherly-sounding voice. "Didn't mean to startle ya', cutie." The voice was definitely that of an older woman, with a deep southern accent. Still, I didn't see anyone. "Down here, silly." The voice said. I looked down. There, at the base of a large tree at the edge of the clearing, was a small greenish/yellow-colored elephant. What could I do?

"Um…hello." I replied. I was talking to a two foot tall yellow elephant.

"I never seen you around here before. You new in the area?" The two foot tall yellow elephant was talking back to me. I was now sure that I was fully insane. I'd might as well play along.

"I guess you can say I am." I said. "In fact, I've been walking around this place since yesterday, without food or an idea of where I am, looking for a sign of civilization." Why was I telling my story to a talking elephant? Maybe because she (I took it as a 'she') sounded normal enough, despite being an elephant and all.

"Well why didn't you say so?" The tiny elephant smiled. "Land sakes, you must be starving, walking around Ooo with nothing to eat. Won't you come on over to my house and I'll bake you an apple pie." The more I thought about it, the less weirded out I was, actually. I was starving, and I had wanted to meet locals and learn more about this strange land I had wound up in. Oh well, what did I have to lose?

"Apple pie sounds really good right about now ma'am." I replied, trying to feign a friendly smile, as if elephants baked me desserts all the time.

"Well right this way, then." The elephant said happily. "And by the way, my name is Tree Trunks." Of course it was. It couldn't have been Sarah or Mabel, or even Gretta. It had to be Tree Trunks. Made about as much sense as anything else thus far. And so I found myself following a pachyderm Paula Dean to her house for pie.


End file.
